//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: The Confession of Rarity Belle // Story: What We Haven't Had // by GhostWriter17 //------------------------------// What We Haven’t Had Chapter 8: The Confession of Rarity Belle A My Little Pony Fanfiction By: GhostWriter17 **** Samael... It is time. Are you ready? Are you truly, completely prepared for what is to be said? Your heart must be able to take it, for I fear that if your heart is not strong... You will surely break. "How could you do that, Rain? How could you be so bucking careless and stupid?!" I heard a voice filled with hatred behind the door which I stood. I had hoped not to intrude on Rain Shimmer and Ella Sundance if they were having problems, but I simply had to talk to them. They were, after all, the ones to arrange this urgent meeting. It is normally not my way to intrude on others when a conflict is on the rise, but, whether it was out of nervousness, time, or a gut feeling, I knocked on the door... Sometimes, I wish I hadn't. Other times, I am grateful to Celestia that I did. Nevertheless, I cannot erase what has been stitched in the fabric of history… The screaming female silenced. I gulped. Silence. I waited, standing at the door, teeth clenched, mouth dry, breathing heavy. How I wanted to turn tail and run. How I wished I could take that knock back. How I wished I had not heard slow hoof steps coming toward me. It was too late. The door slowly opened. In the doorway stood a beautiful mare, with an orange coat and thin-haired mane. Her mane was several different shades of red, draping around her ears and back, giving it an almost wet look. Her soft features were only accentuated by her delicate eyes and blue-gray irises. She looked slightly ragged, most likely from the screaming, however, her face brightened when the mare realized it was I in the doorway. "Oh, Rarity, hello! Rain," she called behind her, "Rarity's here!" She stepped back, a bit of worry in her eyes, and allowed me entrance. "Please, uhm, follow me." She said, leading me through her rather large house. I was absolutely astonished with her appearance. I had never seen her look so befuddled and haphazard. It worried me, to be quite honest. I followed Ella through a few large rooms, mostly those for lounging, adorned with beautiful tapestries and furnishings unlike those I'd ever witnessed. I would describe them, but, alas, my memory has failed me on such an insignificant detail. Ella eventually brought me to her kitchen, an elaborate space with the finest of -- never mind. The detail that I truly remember was the rows of various alcohols and liquors lining the shelves of the kitchen. One of the bottles was shattered on the floor in a far corner. Rain, a lanky but fairly well-looking stallion, with dark brown eyes and blue-green coat and a long, luscious mane, sat at a table, shaking and breathing fairly heavily. I sat across from the couple. A frightening silence pervaded throughout the room. Nopony dared move. We three just sat there looking at each other for a few odd, awkward, long seconds, until Rain spoke up. "You, uh, came here to see us about the trip, right? Rarity, is it?" His speech was slow, his voice low. I snapped out of my gaze. "Oh, yes! I'm sorry; I apologize greatly for that, uhm, awkwardness that just happened there." Ella sniffed. Rain coughed. I eyed them both fairly frantically. "Right. So, I talked to Samael already, and I wished to confirm with you of the plans." "Do you need payment for m- our share?" Ella inquired. I waved a hoof to them. "No, that need not be necessary. Samael paid for everything, and then some." The couple looked surprised, their eyes widening. "You didn't know she'd pay for it all?" They shook their heads. "Well then, I guess this is a surprise for all three of us!" I looked to the space in between of Ella and Rain. As professional as I had tried to be in the past, I had not yet at the time grasped the courage to hold eye contact with my clients for long periods of time. "I know that what you are about to do in the coming weeks is dangerous, and I wish you all the best. However, I do not mean to pry, as it's really none of my concern, but what will become of your son?" Ella looked down. Rain gulped. "I mean, Samael said that she was unsure of whether he's going on the journey with you, and-" "He's not going." Ella whispered softly. "Neither is Rain." "What?" I exclaimed. "But Samael said-" "Samael doesn't know yet," Rain answered, hardness in his voice, "and I'm going to be taking care of the boy." I was dumbfounded. "But why?" I asked, "Shouldn't you be going with them, Rain? I thought they need you to help?" "We don't." Ella exclaimed. She glanced at me. "I don't need him to do my job." "And I don't need her." Said the other. "I'm sorry Rarity, but we simply can't be around each other. We're getting divorced..." "And in a way, this journey of hers is the final nail in the coffin. Like she's leaving me forever, both physically and in spirit." "Because of the journey, he has rightful custody over our child, as the journey shall be long and arduous." "There simply is no love..." "Only pathos." I knew not what to say. I simply stared at the two ponies in front of me. Ella, with her head down once more, was bathed in a glimmering light from an open window behind her. Rain, however, was draped in long shadows, making his somber expression seem even more morose. "I- I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I-" "There's no need to apologize, miss." Rain began, "It's really our fault anyway. She's just a selfish, narcissistic witch." "And he's a hateful nihilist." Ella argued quietly. "I'm old." "You're a drunk." "You're the one who raised our son to be the way he is." "You didn't do a damn thing." "I worked to keep a roof over our heads while you did nothing." "I worked with Samael all this time to help the betterment of her species." "You quit your job for a lost cause." "I quit my job to do what I always wanted." "And what was that?" "To make a change in the world. I don't see you doing that." "You're right. I'm simply existing." "You're pathetic." "And you break my heart." The two simply sat there, unmoving, silent. Goddesses, I thought, this is horrible. I decided to speak up. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." I didn't know what else to say. There were no words for the pain radiating from these two souls. "There's no need to apologize, Rarity." Rain said, "You're young. You know not yet the pain of all of this. We should be the ones apologizing." He gazed at me, half of his face now illuminated by the light. "You cannot change the past. What's happened has happened. We've both made mistakes. It's maybe better this way, for all of us. I know that you've just begun your career as a... Whatever you call it, but I know that you can go far. Please, keep them safe, and do good. That's all I ask, be good." "Says the pony that spends his nights concocting alcohol." Ella scoffed, "Jeez, putting your great skills of chemistry and science to good use, there." Rain said nothing. "Right. Well, uh, I thank you both for your time in all of this. Please, Ella, if you can, come by my Boutique in a week or so. By then everything should be ready, with hope." I got up from my seat, shaking slightly. "Well, then. If there is nothing else, I guess I shall be off, then?" I stared at the two sad-looking ponies for a minute longer. They sat there, silent. "Yes, well, please be sure to tell your son when he comes home from school that Rarity said hello!" I tried so very hard to sound happy. "Oh, uhm, by the way, if you do not mind my asking, what is his name, anyway?" Ella's lips were the first to move. But no sound came from them. It was as if she had said nothing. "Oh, that's a wonderful name!" I said. Why could I not remember your name? It's a question I may never know the answer to, dear Samael. I am sorry. I am so very, very sorry. I am sorry for what I have had to tell you, what I've had to recall. I apologize for not remembering every detail, or possibly skipping over something in my conversations with your parents and Samael, if I did. Twenty two years is a long time to recall such memories like these, horrible memories that you'd rather not recall. I am sure you know the feeling well, my dear. Nevertheless, I must continue on, and tell all the truths that I can remember, for your sake, Samael… It was now early afternoon. I needed to get home and start making the clothes for Ella and Samael, no matter how awful I felt. No matter how heavy my hooves felt. No matter how weak my legs felt. No matter how tired I seemed to be. No matter what horror I had just witnessed, the horror of tragic love, I had to finish the job. I had to. For every pony’s sake, and mine. I entered the Boutique, my home, quietly. I closed the door behind me and flipped the sign on the door to "CLOSED". It was time to work. I had to. Opalescence appeared in front of me. I had no idea if she'd been there the whole time or somehow managed to sneak in front of me without my knowing. Opal could sense my anxiety, I knew it. For such a young, slender, almost sickly-looking cat, she was very intelligent. I hoped she would not get fat and become cranky and spoiled. I stroked her back and scratched behind her ears half-heartedly, not really in the mood for playing. "Oh, Opal," I said not only to her, but also to myself, "whatever shall come out of this incident? I know love can be difficult. At least, I would assume it would have its ups and downs. I mean, surely such a horrible thing could never happen to me, right?" I sighed. "Oh, where did Ella go wrong? Was it simply their conflicting opinions of the matter at hand, or did they never truly love each other? They always seemed fine to me. What about you, Opal? What do you think?" Opal purred as I stroked her more, but as I asked that she stared right into my eyes inquisitively. "Oh, you're absolutely right, Opal. I should never allow myself such heartache as what Ella must be feeling. I mean, who truly needs the love of a stallion, right? Oh, as wonderful and glamorous and amazing as that would be, and how it would set my heart a flutter, I must focus on my true priorities: I should focus on my work and making a name for myself! Of course, looking for the special pony to be my true love wouldn't hurt much, either, but I cannot put my happiness in too much jeopardy! After all, I've a reputation to uphold, and one that I must continue if I am ever to one day go to Canterlot and be truly noticed by the fashion world! Maybe there's a nice, young, dashing prince in Canterlot somewhere for me. But I don't very well yet know, now do I? No, I don't. "Nevertheless, I have got to get to work, Opal, dear. I'm sorry for venting about such things to you, really I am. It's just that, well, sometimes it is nice to have someone to vent to. Sometimes it is nice to have a friend." With that I set out to work. And work I did. I slaved for hour after hour, drawing and redrawing the designs best-suited for Samael's original sketches and wants. Hours turned into days, and sketches turned into diagrams, and diagrams led to cloth being ordered, fabrics and any other supplies I needed for the project. Day after day I worked, hardly spending time on anything else. I rarely went outside. I rejected other offers for requests, something I never do, and vowed not to do since. Simply put, my time management skills back then were not what they are today. For a whole week I toiled in the madness of such a daunting, yet oh so simple task. The pieces all did fall into place, I can assure you that much, yet it took time and massive amounts of energy. Samael on occasion would come over and check on my work, and thankfully give me someone else to talk to other than Opal. She told me that soon after I had left the Sundance’s house that Ella had packed most of her things and was now living with her. I did not know what to think or say to that. Samael did mention that there were some books Ella had left behind at the house, but said she wouldn't be going back for them. I was stressed immensely. I could not get my poor friend Ella off my mind, and what I'd witnessed at her house. I thought constantly of her son, and what would become of him in the coming weeks, how he'd handle losing his mother for two very different reasons, one of which even I couldn't explain. I cried most days. I vomited a few times. I found it difficult to sleep, so very difficult. Sometimes I would just throw my hooves into the air and scream, and then I'd sit and stare at my unfinished creation for hours before finding the strength to work again. Finally though, one day before it was to be shown to Ella and Samael, I had done it! I had finished the outfits with money and supplies and sanity to spare. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, smiled a bit, cried in joy, and made myself some well overdue cucumber sandwiches! I must say, I was so very proud of those two creations. For all the sketches and diagrams I drew and threw out and inked and colored and measured and ripped apart, for all the supplies I wasted and tore and used and reused, for all the sweat, blood, tears, and time I'd used in the project, it was all worth it. Even though my heart was happy, the situation still had a twinge of sorrow in it. The outfits were borne out of grief and sadness, not truly love or generosity. The outfits were, as Samael wished them to be, not at all glamorous or fashionable, but were wearable. Multiple layers of heavy fabric and insulated fibers, pockets both inside and outside the coat, a hood for wind protection, and some boots, gloves, scarves, and miscellaneous articles thrown in for good measure. Sure, they were brown as dirt, but even dirt has its beauty, right? Well, okay, that's not terribly true, but that is not important, either, I must confess. I so wished to check on Ella and see what she had been up to, but I decided against it. I figured that I would see her tomorrow regardless, and thus decided to spend the rest of the day preparing for her arrival and finishing up any other, less stressful, projects I had yet to complete. However, that one day went by blindingly fast, and before I knew it, the day of truth had come. I prepared everything that morning, an early morning, mind you, the sun had yet to rise, and I made sure everything was in its proper place. Then, soon as I flipped my window sign to "OPEN", the sun began to rise, and I waited patiently. I did not have to wait long, as soon after the sun's light streamed through my windows did the door open to reveal my two expect guests. Samael walked in first, looking fresh, awake, and as radiant as ever. Sometimes, even though some griffons I've heard of were rather brutish and disgusting, I can't stress enough at how beautiful Samael was. She was slender, yet muscular, walking confidently with much finesse and grace. She nodded to me as she approached her respective outfit, eyeing it up and down. Then, Ella entered the Boutique. To my surprise, she looked as beautiful as I'd ever seen her. Words cannot describe how wonderful and healthy she looked! She strolled into the Boutique with a wide grin on her face, but her eyes deceived her smile. Both wore saddlebags on their backs. "Hello, Rarity," the mare greeted, "I see that everything is ready." "Yes, dear, it very well is!" I quipped cheerfully. "Come, have a closer look, will you please?" Ella obliged fairly cheerfully and, like Samael had done, began to examine their gear. "This is fantastic work, Rarity," Samael complimented, lifting some of the cloth to look inside some of the pockets and feel her way around the ponnequin, "and I really do appreciate the extra gear and supplies you bought us!" She seemed extremely pleased, her red eyes practically bugging at the sight of every new compartment or hidden object in the coat. Ella calmly, blankly, looked through hers. "It was my pleasure, dear!" I chirped. "Why, after the circumstance of, well, one less traveler, I decided to put those extra bits to good use! I'll admit it made things a great deal harder, as I had absolutely no idea what I was doing as far as preparation was concerned, but thanks to your notes and insight throughout the week I believe what I have for you is adequate. At least, I hope so." Samael glanced back and forth from her gear to me, then said, rather annoyed, "Adequate!? You think that all of this is simply adequate!?" She pointed a claw, a rather sharp claw, "Why would you ever call this 'adequate'?" Her feathers ruffled, making her seem positively enormous! I shrank back in fear. "This gear... Is quite possibly..." Her breathing was heavy, her eyes burned into my retinas. She huffed and puffed, voice screeching like some horrible monster every time she uttered a syllable! "This gear that you've given us, for our long, deathly journey is quite possibly the most perfect thing I could have ever asked for!" She instantly calmed down; her voice at the last several words of her speech sounding about as cheerful as that pink pony that throws parties constantly. I blinked, not moving a muscle. The griffon blinked back, still smiling. "What?" She asked. I stood back up to my full height, still shaking a little bit. "Oh, nothing, dear, but thank you for the compliment nonetheless. However, I do think that there may have been an easier way to go about this, as far as the sizes and measurements are concerned. I mean, of course once measurements are made it's an easy process but I feel I may be better suited for something more... Personal." Samael cocked her head. "Personal?" I nodded my head as I approached the ponnequin beside Ella. "Yes, personal," I began, "I believe it may be better for my business, more beneficial, to be give a more intimate touch to my work. After all, these ponies and other creatures I am to work with aren't uncivilized ruffians, of course! Therefore I must make sure to treat such creatures as living beings! Maybe I'll measure and fit them right here in the Boutique!" I squealed with joy, clopping my hooves on the ground. "Oh, how wonderful it would be to get to know my customers better! It shall be surely stupendous, I do think! What is it that you think, girls?" "I think it's absolutely wonderful, dear," said Ella, "I've always told ___ that we are all Songbirds, and that all Songbirds have a voice to be heard." She blushed and shied away from me in embarrassment. I put a hoof around her neck gently to ease her. To my surprise, she leaned into it and rubbed her nuzzle into my chest! She shuddered quietly under my foreleg. "Oh, Ella, it'll be alright, I promise. I know things are terribly difficult now, but they've got to get better, you'll see." I didn't really know what exactly to say. I was never terribly good at comforting others or helping them. I should change such a trait of mine. Ella pushed me away forcibly, heaving heavy gasps with every movement. I stumbled on my hooves as the pressure of Ella's hooves hit my chest, but I quickly regained my balance. Ella was a wreck. The tears flowed down her soft cheeks, leaving a wet, black trail of makeup in the path. Her body shook and convulsed as if she no longer had control of it. She struggled to breathe with each desperate gasp of air she took, only to release it again in another forceful sob. She heaved a dry cough of pain, trying to yell out her frustrations, yet there was no sound. I was harshly reminded of a horror story I once heard: I have No Mouth, and I Must Scream. Samael and I tried to approach the ball of fury, the mass of sadness in front of us, but we could not reach her. She ran away from us, collapsing against a wall near the kitchen. She wailed an incomprehensible jumble of sorrow, no words, no tangible sound, and no mouth. "Ella, please," Samael approached, cautiously, "just let us come near. We can figure this out, it'll be okay. W-" "No! You just don’t understand, do you? It’ll never get better, dammit! Nothing ever will, no matter how much I do, no matter where I go, it will never be okay, Sam! It’ll never be okay because I know that regardless of what the buck I do with my life I know I’ll never be able to come back here to see my son grow into the stallion I want him to be! I’ll never be able to get my life back! Do you know what it’s like to lose your family based on a decision you made?” Ella’s erratic, heavy breathing was all that sounded. She stood defiantly weak, hateful regret scorching her mood. Samael stalked toward her, her eyes burning once again with intense fire. As the griffon moved ever closer to Ella, I tried to come between them, to mediate the conflict, but Samael raised a talon at me. I understood. I could only watch. “So, you think you got it bad, huh?” Samael began, “You think you’re the one who’s hurting? Really? Last I checked, you weren’t the one who may very well be one of the only ones capable of helping out your species, having your life being the difference being prosperity of your species and damned extinction. Last I checked, you are not one who has to suffer simply because you exist! I left my home years ago to get away from the torment and evil! Now, years later, I have to go back to save their sorry asses based on the theory that I may be able to help them! You had a choice in this matter. I didn’t.” “What, you want me to pity you, just because your whole life has apparently sucked? Don’t you remember that I was the one who nursed you to health and taught you how to survive in this place? I was your only friend in the whole world, and I’m risking my existence for your whole species. My life could still be fine were it not for my decision to help you!” “Mule.” “Dodo.” “You’re a sorry excuse for a pony.” “And you’re quite a bitch for a savior.” “Ya know, I’ve slaved over you lately, poured all my energy into making you feel good, and for what? So you can yell at me and flip out after all this time?” “You’ve no idea what I’m going through.” “You’ve no idea what I’ve been through.” “At least I have a brain.” “At least I have a soul.” “What soul?” “The one that takes pride in the filth that is my species. What brain are you talkin’ about?” “The one that can save the filth that is your species.” “You broke my heart.” “And you took mine in its place…” At this point the two had simmered down and were reduced to petty insults and whispers of hatred rather than shouting in the name of destruction. The pony and griffon stared each other down, having simply run out of things to say to and about each other. Their faces each changed from looks of loathing to those of pity. Gazes softened, and they both stared at each other in sorrowful silence. Celestia, never had I felt so helpless. But I had to do something. “Dears, I think we should all just calm down and, uhm, discuss this over tea?” Samael’s eyes looked my way. “How in the Shire will that help?” “Animosity solves nothing. After all, as Princess Celestia once wrote in her address to reform the country of Saddle Arabia after the Revolution of Horses, ‘there is always an alternative to conflict’.” Now it was Ella whose eyes turned toward me. “Well I’ve had more than enough discussion to last a lifetime. I’m sick of this.” She began to head toward the door. Samael ruffled her feathers and extended her wings as if to spring into action, but I held a hoof out to stop her. “So you are just going to give up, Ella?” I began, “You, the Prodigy of Ponyville? The one who could cure any illness? The very mare who trained Nurse Redheart?” She stopped in her tracks with a hoof to the door. “I’m disappointed in you, friend. You would never leave a pony behind in their time of need. You did it not when I was down on my luck, when the future seemed uncertain; and again you did not retreat when faced with the curious case of Samael. “You were the one to find the cure for Meratitis. You were instrumental to the survival of this town when the Great Blizzard hit. You, like many in this town, have done wonderful things, things not many ponies would go through. And now, after all the tribulations you have suffered from, you are just going to walk away? What would Rain say?” “He’d laugh in my face, then spit on my rotting corpse of a body.” “Well then, what would your son say?” Ella turned to face me. “He’d look at me like he may one day look upon his father, if he does not change his ways. He’d hate me.” “So, he does not hate you?” With every response, I stepped half a step closer to the door. “No. He loves both Rain and I. With all his heart, his heart… My heart… If he were to hate me...” “Your heart would surely break.” “Yes.” I stepped closer to her. “And would you want that?” “No. Nothing would cause me more grief.” “And what of Rain?” “He can go to Tartarus. It’s all his fault.” “It is?” “Well, no, I suppose not. We’re both to blame.” “Why do you think that is, dear?” “We were young, reckless, and stupid…” “Is that all?” “No.” “Are you thirsty?” “Very.” “Good!” I was now right next to her. Her hoof was on the door handle, mine over hers. “So what do you say we go into the kitchen and drink some tea over it?” I smiled at her. “That would be… Nice.” And so it was. I led Samael and Ella to the kitchen, magic setting up the water to boil, as they sat down at the table across from each other. I set three bars of dark chocolate in front of them. "One for each of us," I said, "I have heard that chocolate made from the southern regions of Equestria is used as a relaxant. This particular treat is a favorite of mine. If you do not like, I can take it away?" I sat down between them. Samael pawed at her bar of chocolate, eyes reduced to thin slits. The dark confection was broken into squares set atop one of my mother’s glass plates, arranged like a pyramid. "This looks expensive..." Ella sniffed hers. "It smells expensive..." Samael grabbed her bar. "It feels expensive..." Ella took a small bite of hers. "It tastes expensive..." "Like money..." Samael chided, chewing. "Chocolate covered money!" Ella mused. They both looked at me after simultaneously swallowing. "Is this expensive?" They asked. I had to laugh. "No dears, not really at all! Granted, given the chance, I would indulge in more extravagant delights, but my current budget has other plans. Therefore this local brand will have to do." I took a bite of my chocolate. It was bitter at first, but then melted into a velvety goodness I savored. "Frankly, I love these," I began. "They remind me of home, no matter how detached I wish to be from them. Besides, my mother will be trying to conceive another foal in a few years, well, more like fourteen, it's her favorite number, but I must be prepared to try and enjoy the simpler things in life." "Sometimes simple things are the best worth remembering," Samael said, her chocolate nearly gone now. "I agree, but Rarity," Ella said, "why go through all this trouble to make it seem so, well, special? I mean, the fancy glass plates, the arrangement; it's a bit much, don't you think?" "All a part of the experience, Ella!" I said. The kettle squealed. "Ah, there's the water. Excuse me." I stood back up from my chair and proceeded to finish the tea, bringing cups for all of us. "Now we can finally have our discussion." Memory can be a fragile thing. I'm honestly surprised I can remember what I have. Yet, maybe it was the chocolate and tea, the soothing atmosphere, and the casual conversation, but I cannot remember too many specific details of what happened… All I remember was discussing Samael and Ella’s rather rocky relationship… After that we discussed the terms of what their journey and what was to be done about you, though Ella did not go into any specific sort of detail. She said that would come later, she said, right before they left. I had not known what she meant, but, one night later, on the stormy night Samael and Ella were to depart, I was paid a visit from the pony… It was about seven o’clock when she came through my door. I had closed my shop early because of the storm, but kept the door unlocked in case a passerby may wish to get out of the gloom for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure why I had the shop closed if the door was unlocked, but none of that was important. The day had been a constantly melancholic one, and now, in the thralls of the setting Sun, the stormy clouds tinged with a sad, sad orange glow as rain filtered rainbow streaks through space, I was paid one last visit to her. Ella quietly opened the door, hood up and dripping wet, dressed in what I made her, with a weary smile on her face. She surprised me, for I was organizing my new shelves and laying out designs for a new stage to with mirrors to work on my clients, and I squealed when she entered. “Ella, dear!” I exclaimed as I wrapped my hooves around her in an embrace, an embrace she warmly welcomed. “My, my, how well that fits you! You look as wonderful as ever, despite the circles under your eyes and your clothing.” I stilted a laugh. She returned it. “I just came back one last time to say thank you for everything, not just about yesterday. I can’t thank you enough.” She looked down to her hooves. “I know maybe not all that I’ve done has been right, and I’ve made lots of mistakes, but its thanks to you Sam and I aren’t fighting anymore. I think maybe we just needed someone as… wonderful as you. But I do have one more request.” Ella led me to the kitchen table. “I want you to do something for me,” she began. “I want you to take care of him, my son. Watch over him, make sure he’s safe. And I also want you to give him these.” She opened one of the fuller pockets of her suit, and one by one took out large text and notebooks and placed them on the table. “These are all my books from when I was a nurse. I want him to have these to remember me by. In each book is a time you are to give these to him, but don’t give them to him explicitly. Hide them somewhere he will find them, away from Rain. I don’t know what he’ll do with them if he were to find them, or if he’d keep to his promise, so I’m trusting you for this duty. Give him the smallest one, at the top of the stack, first and observe him. When he finishes it, give him the next one, and so on. I don’t know how you should go about getting the books to him. Maybe hide them in the forest. You’re familiar with the Running of the Leaves?” I nodded. “Yes, I had to walk the track once to make sure no precious gems or minerals would be trampled in the dirt. It was quite silly, actually.” “Good,” Ella said, “there’s a small bank by the place where the trail crosses a brook, where the ground gets rocky, close to the edge of the thickest part of the forest. On top of that hill is a single tree, Samael and I have been there a few times, but he likes to go there a lot to get out of the house alone. Maybe hide one of them there. It’s really up to you how you go about it. I can’t bear to do it myself. But, there’s one thing I really want you to remember, Rarity.” She then proceeded to take out a large, paper-filled, leather bound notebook from the pocket. “This,” she said, “is everything. My whole story. Everything I’ve collected truly on an emotional level through my life. It’s the final step. Give this to him when the time is right. You’ll know the moment, I’m sure. I trust you with these, my friend, as a parting gift. It well may be that we’ll never meet again… At least, not in this lifetime. I may never return.” “I know that, dear. Believe me, I know.” “Thank you.” We embraced once more. The silence was uncomfortable. I could hear our hearts beat rhythmically in time with each other. It was surreal, to say the least. “You’re welcome. Goodbye.” I followed her back to the front of the Boutique. The pale glow of the Sun bathed the room in an otherworldly light. It was then I got angry at myself. The blinds weren’t drawn, yet the store was closed. How ridiculous of me. I’ll never forget how radiant Ella looked as she opened the door to the trickling rain outside, her hood drawn back, and how the light cast an aura around her, made her eyes brighter, almost as if she were an angel walking into the Light Beyond. She turned to look me in the eye, and for the first time in years, she seemed to be truly content. Alive. “Goodbye, Rarity,” she said with a youthful confidence I’d not heard in a long time, “May dreams give you wings.” “And may wings give you flight.” I returned. And a tear fell from each of our faces. And the pitter pattering of rain grew heavier. And the light faded from the sky, as it solemnly faded from her eyes. And for a moment she stepped back, as if afraid. And I stepped forward, ready to take her into my arms. And she sighed. And the door closed. And I never saw her again. I Have No Tears, and I Must Cry. **** “So is that it? That’s everything?” Samael sat and looked across the table from Rarity. Her gaze was to the side for Samael, unable to look him in the eye. “No. Not everything. The worst of it is still to come.” “What do you mean?” Before Rarity could answer, the oven’s timer went off. “Oh, the cake is done!” Rarity ran up to the oven and, in a flurry of moments, she took the cake out and onto the counter and used her magic to wrap a cloak of blue magic around the cake. “What was that for? Using your magic on the cake, I mean.” Samael asked. “Oh, it’s a near-instant cooling spell a friend of mine taught me,” Rarity said, sounding somewhat exasperated, “it’s very advanced though, at least for me. It takes quite a bit of concentration. Thankfully, it allows me to ice the cake much quicker using a much simpler levitation spell.” She then coated the vanilla cake with smooth chocolate icing. “Your favorite flavor, I presume, based on what your mother has told me.” When she had finished, Samael spoke up again. “Yeah. Speaking of which, do you still have that book you, uh, talked about?” A prickling sensation ran through Samael’s body, an instant itching that allowed salty, hot liquid to come from the pores in his skin, his palpitations quickening with every passing second. “Why, yes I do, Samael. Let me go retrieve it for you.” Rarity went to leave the kitchen, but stopped and said, “With this, all will become clear.” Then Samael was alone. His heart whispered in his ear, telling him to run. The lights wanted to drown him out in white light. The cake wanted to devour him. His breath told his brain to stop. His brain told his soul it wanted to turn into a gooey mush and leak out his nose, and his soul wanted to run away and not experience what was about to happen. All will become clear. But Samael did not move. He stayed where he was, gooey brain and all. There would be time to run and not think about things. There would be time to lock himself in his house. There would be time to burn his books like his dreams. There would be time to drown himself in a flurry of drinking and jump off the mount- Rarity had returned. No backing out now. “I kept this as safe as possible,” Rarity spoke as she came to Samael, the book cloaked in magic, “I kept it in this the whole time. I only ever read it once.” The book, placed on the table, was encased in a glass container. The book was quite thick, thicker than Samael had pictured, and stuffed to the seams with papers. There were several loose sheets of paper behind the book. They seemed newer than any of the pages Samael could see from the book. “What are those papers?” Samael asked, pointing to the papers in question. “Those are mine, Dearest. I wrote those so I wouldn’t forget.” She brought the cake to the center of the table and sat down in her seat. “Forget what?” “Anything. Everything. I wrote about your mother, Samael, you, Rain, and myself. It’s not as important as what is in that book, however. I do not want you to open the case. I do not want you to read it here; read it at home.” “What? Why?” “It’s what I believe would be the right time. As I said earlier, I am not yet done with my story. The final, true confession, Dearest, is still to come. And if you are thrown into a crazed frenzy, a madness of the mind, then it shall be all my fault. You’re distressed at what you’ve already heard, and if you break from what I am about to tell you, then you would not have been ready, and I will have failed dear Ella. But it is now too late to turn back. Let’s enjoy some of this beautiful cake first.” “Y-yeah. It smells delicious.” Rarity chuckled. “Yes, it does. Simple, but refined. It’s the favorite flavors of my Sweetie, as well.” She sighed, and then levitated two plates, forks, and a utensil to cut the cake with. They each ate a piece of the cake in silence. It was one of the best cakes Samael had ever tasted. “Now then,” Rarity said after finishing her piece. “It’s time.” **** It was my solemn duty to protect you, Samael, and I had to carry on that duty. It was several weeks, I believe, maybe a couple of months, after Ella had departed. That was the first time I had met you. Well, the you that is the you of today. The “new” you. I had come to Cheerilee’s School for Young Fillies, Colts and Equestrians to talk to her of her recent building of the new school building, but I was really there for you… The time that had passed since Ella and Samael’s departure had been a blurry one for me. Days either crawled by in my worry or sadness, or they sped past in a haze of numbness. But I had to, like anyone else in Ponyville, keep moving on with my daily life, no matter how difficult it was. It felt as if everypony else was taking the duo’s leaving better than I, as if, for them, it was easy to forget. But not I. No. I couldn’t forget. How could I? I had to clear my head. The daytime was rather beautiful, after all. I had to stay happy. Or at least, look like I was. I trotted up to the bright scarlet building that was Cheerilee’s school. I trotted up the wooden steps, admiring the smell of fresh paint, and was about to open the door, when suddenly a bell rang and mountains of fillies and colts stampeded over me! At least they were kind enough to say sorry when they trampled me. Thankfully, I suffered no injury. I heard a giggle in front of wear I lay, face planted in the wood. I looked up and saw two pairs of hooves, one slender and feminine, Cheerilee, and the other smaller, shorter, and green. “Are you alright, Rarity?” The pair of slender hooves asked me. The other pair stood shaking in place. I slowly got up. "Yes, I think I'll be fine, thank you." I looked at the faces that belonged to those hooves; they were Cheerilee and a young colt I did not recognize. Cheerilee had a wide smile, the colt wide eyes. "I'm so sorry about that, Rarity," Cheerilee began. "I didn't know you were right outside and when I opened the door they all just burst through!" "It's quite alright," I said. I looked back down to the young colt, who still gazed at me through those large blue glasses of his. "And who is this young one?" "This is -” she stopped, took a breath, and then continued again. “This is Samael Sundance, Rarity. Say hello, Samael." Samael just stared at me in wonderment. "Samael," Cheerilee started, "please say something to Rarity." Samael cleared his throat, and then said, "Are you a Songbird?" "What?" I asked. “Are you a Songbird?” “Uhm, I’m not quite sure how to respond to that.” I said. Samael kept staring at me. “Well, Samael, I can tell you right now that I’m not a Songbird, I’m sorry to say.” “But your voice is like a Songbird’s. So you’ve gotta be one. Any pony can be a Songbird.” Cheerilee tapped Samael’s shoulder, and he looked up at her. “That sounds very fascinating, Samael! How about we discuss it together while I walk you home?” She turned to me. “I’m sorry about this, Rarity, but I should not have agreed to meet about things straight after school. I always walk Samael home after school.” “It’s no trouble, Cheerilee, honestly! Maybe I could walk with you two?” Cheerilee looked apprehensive. “Well, while that would solve the problem of us two having to get together later, are you sure you wanna do that? We wouldn’t be able to really talk about much until he’s dropped off, and I wouldn’t want to burden you or anything. Besides, he seems to have taken an odd liking to you.” She looked down at Samael, and, as did I, I saw that he was again staring at me. His irises flicked in all directions, as if he were studying me, enraptured by me. I laughed. “Oh, no, Darling, it’s no trouble at all! Besides, many a pony has been captured by my natural beauty, and I think it’s just a wonderful thing that he should find me so interesting. By the by, I could use an excuse to get out of the house for a while longer.” Cheerilee cocked her head. “Are you sure? You look a little pale. Well, pale in regards to your coat, I mean. Weak might be a better word. You sure you’re up to it?” “Absolutely,” I said. “I think I’ll be able to handle it. I’m not ill so much as I am exhausted. Besides, staying cooped up in that dreary house would be a detriment to my complexion and my sanity.” Cheerilee smiled at this. “As you wish. Samael, would you mind if Rarity came along with us?” Samael shook his head ever so slightly. “Then let’s head out! Samael, could you go and get my saddlebag?” Samael nodded and disappeared into the school, leaving the two of us alone. Cheerilee smiled at me, a knowing look in her eyes. I’m sure I was a mirror image of her. Nothing was said. There was no need to say anything. Not yet. We understood each other. Mutual melancholy. Samael quickly came back with a far-too-large-for-his-size saddlebag on his back, stumbling and tripping as he ran to his teacher. Cheerilee quickly took the saddlebag, thanked him, and put it on her own back. “Now then,” she said, “it’s time.” We set off on the countryside streets along the edge of Ponyville, the town in the distance to our right down a hill, a lush green forest to our left. Samael trotted along to my right with Cheerilee beside him. “So, Samael,” I began, “what was it that you wanted to talk about? About the Songbird?” Samael looked up at me once again, a gleam in his eye. “Any pony can be a Songbird. You could be one. It’s in a song my mom would sing to me before I would fall asleep. A Songbird is some pony that is very special to you, some pony you know, she says.” “Oh, Samael, that’s beautiful!” I said. “Yeah.” He looked forward again. “She also said that some ponies could be gods or goddesses, if I wanted them to be. Just like a Songbird. I think you’re a goddess, Rarity.” He smiled at me. “That’s so very sweet of you, Samael, thank you! But you don’t know me very well, I’m afraid. So how could I be a Songbird to you?” “Because I do know you. Because you’d come over some days when I was really little and talk to mom. You’d hold me and you and mom would laugh and sing together. Plus, I see you a lot.” I stopped walking. “What do you mean?” Cheerilee and Samael looked back. “I saw you in the forest a few times. You we-” Samael stopped talking, pursing his lips shut. “Never mind.” He said, and continued walking again. Cheerilee trotted up to me, we two staying behind Samael. “Ask him about that. Do you know what that’s about?” She whispered. “No, I don’t think so,” I lied. “but maybe he’ll open up with some more coaxing.” “What would you be doing in the forest?” “I recall having to go look for something, a scarf, maybe, that blew out of my hooves. Other than that incident, I am not sure…” “I’ve tried to get him talking about things lately,” Cheerilee said, “but he just won’t talk about it. That or he’ll give me some roundabout answer.” She smiled at me. “You should use your charms to try and get him to talk more. It’ll do him some good, I think.” “Perhaps,” I agreed, “and maybe he is not confessing his feelings because you’re here.” Cheerilee looked down. “You could be right.” Her ears drooped. “Should I leave you two alone then?” I looked ahead. Samael was still walking ahead of us, occasionally glancing back and smiling. “Normally I would say no to such a thing, but maybe it is for the best.” “Alright then. Samael!” Samael stopped walking and turned to face Cheerilee. “I’m sorry but this walk has taken longer than usual. I need to go and, uh, wash the homework! I didn’t realize what time it was. Rarity will finish taking you home.” Samael beamed. “Okay! Have fun washing the homework!” He waved a goodbye to Cheerilee, who began walking the other way. “Goodbye, Samael! See you tomorrow!” She said, “Take care of him, Rarity!” I waved a similar goodbye to Cheerilee, and the two of us were alone. This isn’t quite what I had in mind when Ella told me to watch over him, but I guess I would need to talk to him sooner or later, I thought. “So, Samael, now that Cheerilee’s gone, would you mind explaining where you saw me in the forest?” “Well, it wasn’t too long ago, and it was in there.” He pointed a hoof toward the forest to our left. “I’ve seen you a couple of times. Do you want me to show you where?” “Of course, my dear, that’d be lovely.” My companion gazed into my eyes once more. “Great!” He said. “Follow me!” And so I followed him through the forest, having to keep up with the trotting colt with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. “Come on, it’s just a bit more ahead!” He called back to me. I recognized the area as he said that. No longer were we in a mass of shrubbery and plant like, that which knows no bounds of growing, yet isn’t as overrun as the Everfree Forest; rather, we travelled now along the dirt path I recalled from before, and I was reminded of Ella. And as we came closer to the sound of running water, as the dirt became rockier, as the trees thinned out more and more, I could only think of Ella. As we approached the brook, the sun high in the sky, I saw Samael basking in the sunlight, atop a lowly hill high above the rolling glades. Well, high enough above them to see much of the forest, that is. Samael’s green-and-purple mixture of a coat shimmered in the afternoon sun, his chest rising and falling deeply as he breathed in and out, eyes closed in the exultation of the moment. I slowly trotted up to him, not wanting to disturb him. As I came closer, he opened his eyes a bit and gazed down to me. “It’s like I’m a god,” he said, “up here, I’m free. Over everything, my mom said, beauty can be the most freeing thing. Or, something like that. Power. It doesn’t make me feel small. It’s like I can scream to the highest heavens and be heard! You know what I mean?” I was now right beside him. “Yes, I think I can,” I said, my voice nearly above a whisper. “It’s beautiful.” “You should know. You were here before. Right under the tree.” “It’s just that I didn’t notice this view, the quiet of the place.” It indeed was quiet. The wind was like a song of time, stuck in its own attraction; no beginning; no end; only now. “What were you doing here? It was, like, a month ago.” “Oh, I was just walking, trying to clear my thoughts, and I happened to stumble upon this place.” Samael gazed up at me. “But you didn’t just come here once. I’ve seen you lots of times.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well, there was that time you were here by the tree, and other times I think I’ll see you behind the bushes. Or I’ll see you nearby in town sometimes and you’ll look over my way, stuff like that.” “Oh, well I’m sure the meetings in town happen to be simple circumstance. A chance meeting, you see.” “But what about in the forest?” I put a hoof around Samael’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re not seeing things? Maybe it was a stray animal, or another pony roaming around. I do know there’s a hermit-type, very meek, who spends much of her time with animals, or so I’ve heard. Could it have been her or somepony else?” He shook his head. “No. I’m sure it was you. It’s like you’re following me. Watching me. And I don’t know how to feel about that. Are you doing that? Watching me?” Should I lie to him? Tell him the truth? I sighed and sat down in the sun-warmed grass. He sat with me. I looked ahead, past the hills, the trees, the brook, and into the everlasting distance. The distance of eternity. That point where the sky and ground met, that point that none have ever reached. “See that point, there in the distance?” I pointed with my right hoof to that place, my other hoof still around Samael. “Where the sky and land meet, that is infinity, my dear.” He said nothing. He snuggled up against my breast. I continued. “The infinite expanse before you, that’s a bit like life, dear. All through our lives we’ll be chasing something, someone. A dream, a memory, an answer, anything. Always forever running, further and further into that infinite expanse. As we keep running and get older, we realize that everyone else in our lives is right there running with us, forever. Some of those that we’ve met will stop running, and we may never see them again. We may slow down, but until the moment we pass on from one world to the next, we keep going. And yet, I think we never reach that tiny space, that expanse that we long for. Sometimes we feel as if there is not a point to our senseless running. Sometimes we break down. And yet still we trudge on, like birds soaring endlessly into the night.” Celestia that was pretentiously purple. “Do you understand what I mean?” I asked. Honestly, I had not the faintest clue what I had said, but wondered if it would be enough for him. He sighed, snuggling into me farther. “I think so. We’re all chasing something. Maybe you’re chasing me? Like a Songbird to a song?” I smiled. “Yes. That’s right.” “And you do it because that’s your answer?” “Maybe it is. Maybe you’re a question that I have to find an answer to.” “A question? What kinda question?” “A question of faith, my dearest. Of love, commitment, and honor. I do it because of someone I care about. Someone I care about very much.” Samael smiled. “I wish I’ll be able to remember this moment forever.” “Samael, I hope you do. Just remember this one thing.” “What’s that?” He asked. “Remember that every day is filled with moments. This is one of those moments. A… Uhm… A perfect moment in our almost-perfect lives.” “Hmm.” I felt Samael’s warmth fade away from me. “I have to go home now or dad will get mad. I’ll come back to you, back here, if you wait for me?” He smiled at me again as I looked to him. “There’s some sandwiches under those roots there in a bag. There’s also some books you can look at, too.” I didn’t want to let him down, and I didn’t have anything else to do for the day, so I said that would be wonderful. Great, he said. And then he was gone. And then I was alone. And then I sighed. And again I thought of Ella. And again I sighed. And I missed the games when we would play. And I missed her beautiful smile. And I missed her sweet-as-sunshine mane, as I used to call it. And I missed her touch, her embrace. I missed our nighttime whispers, our secrets to each other when we were fillies, of colts and simple things and dreams and lost causes and anxieties and hopes and love and life and everything. And I missed the time when things were much simpler, the time when we didn’t have to worry about anything at all. Nothing but us, when the infinite space was only as infinite as our small scope on the world, when infinity seemed impossible and anything was everything. And all we needed was each other. Now that infinite space seemed so far away, unreachable. And I knew I would never see her again, after holding on and hoping. And I called her name in the afternoon light, screaming to the heavens and not giving a damn about anything else in the world. I only wanted her. I wanted my friend. I wanted everything to be alright. I wanted to feel joy again. And I yelled. And I kicked myself. And I hated her. And I hated myself. And I hated it all. And I was exhausted. And I collapsed against the tree. And I looked up again, gasping, the branches filtering sunlight like some holy painting. And I shook my head. And I gave up. And I breathed. And for the first time since the night Ella left, I wept. I wept for quite some time; I am not sure how long I did. It felt good. I just let my emotions flow. And I was fine. I found a strange catharsis in the act. My mother did always say it was good to cry now and again. It was odd for me to cry like this and think about it; normally, I would wail in uncouth fits of melodrama like a filly. A silly filly. But now the tears were real. They weighed me down and shut me up. Yet most of all they set me free. And I was fine. And I was happy. I breathed in and out once more, wiping the tears from my face, and rinsed my face in the brook. Maybe I was stark-raving mad to do so. I didn’t care. I couldn’t let Samael see the makeup all over me. It had to be done. I went to the tree again, and looked down at a root jutting out of the ground. Under the root was a small crevice. I reached inside, and pulled out the items Samael said would be in there. I didn’t touch the sandwich. Ugh. I did, however, open the large textbook, wrapped carefully in several layers of cloth. It was just how I had left it when I put it by the tree all those weeks ago. Maybe I should have been more careful with when and how I delivered the book. Maybe I shouldn’t have been as obvious in my watching the colt. It was done. I carefully leafed through the text, Equestrian Ailments and You: A Guide, and with each page I skimmed through I became more aware of the fact that Samael may very well need my help. I was unsure of what my purpose would really be, but I had a feeling that one day I would be instrumental in his development as a pony. It had to be fate. Destiny. I’d always been a firm believer in such fantastical concepts. Thinking of Ella and Samael made me smile. My smile faded when the colt came to me. Mangled fur. Tired eyes. Wet face. Alcohol on his breath. On his coat. In his blood. In his soul. He looked utterly horrid. Defeated. Black. Samael crawled up the hill toward me. “Samael. Goodness, what in Celestia happened?” I called to him. He darted his eyes toward me. His glasses were lopsided on his face. He eyed me as if he hadn’t seen me there, a doe startled by lights. “Samael?” I asked again. He crept toward me, fear, wonder, exhaustion all in his figure. There didn’t seem to be a shred of happiness or joy in him. He simply came to me, and lay down beside me, closing his eyes. “Samael?” Nothing. I reached a hoof out to touch him. He whimpered and shrank away. “Samael, it’s alright. I won’t harm you. Please, Dearest.” He perked up. “D-dearest?” He asked. “Yes, that’s right. It’s what I call some ponies. Now come over here and tell me what happened to you. Maybe I can help.” His glassy eyes darted back in forth. “Oh… Okay.” Without actually getting up, he crawled to me and, like before, place his head on my breast, snuggled under my foreleg. I wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He shivered beneath me, and snuggled his face into me. He was crying. I used my hoof to brush his mane. “Shh,” I cooed, “It’s alright. It’s okay. Just let it out, Dearest. It’ll all be fine. I’m here for you.” “Mommy…” “What was that?” I asked. “Mommy. I miss Mommy.” “I know, Dear. I miss her, too.” “Mommy? I need a Songbird.” “What? You want me to sing to you?” “Please… Please sing the Songbird Song.” Goddesses, forgive me. I sighed heavily, still petting him as he cried into me even harder. I began with a soft hum, and then began to sing to him. “ Hush little Songbird, don't make a sound. One day, I promise, I shall come around. And if I don't then do not fret. One day Mother Songbird will find you yet. Sleep, my little Songbird, for I am here. Even in your dreams I'll still be there. So, my little Songbird do not cry. You'll soon find your wings and one day fly. ” All that was left were our tears. “Mommy,” Samael began, “thank you.” “But Dearest, I’m not-” “Mommy?” He looked at me now. “Yes?” What was I to do? “Can I be a Songbird?” “Of course you can. Anypony can be a Songbird.” “How can I be a Songbird if I’m worthless, Mommy?” “Because… Because Songbirds are special. And you’re special.” I said. “Why am I special? I’m not special. You’re the only special one. You’re the only Songbird.” “That’s not true, dear. I’m not the only Songbird. You’re another one, too.” “Are you a goddess?” He asked me. “If you believe it to be so, my Dear.” He looked away. “You are a goddess.” I said nothing more. I simply hugged him tighter, but I always felt it was not enough. I just couldn’t get close enough. I wanted to hug not his body, but his soul. I wanted to heal him, so bad. So bad. He spoke up again. “Will I ever sing the Songbird Song?” “Of course you can, Samael.” “What if all other Songbirds are dead?” “Then you can sing it to me.” He paused with a ‘humph’. “You’ll always be here, Mommy?” “Of course, my Dear. I’m always here.” “What if I’m a bad pony?” “You’re not a bad pony, Samael. You never have been.” “Why do bad things happen to me?” “I don’t know. Sometimes bad things just happen.” “If I’m not bad, then why is my name not mine?” “Your name?” “What was my name? Before Daddy took it out of me?” “Your name?” “My real name.” “My Dear, your real name… Your real name was Hope.” I lied. “Hope?” “Yes.” Samael pushed away from me clumsily. The sun was now sinking, casting a pink and orange glow across the land. Never has a sunset looked so sad. Samael stared blankly out to the sun. He said one thing more: “Hope can die.” “I’m sorry, Samael.” It was all I could say. He looked at me, pity in his young eyes, sending shivers down my spine. I now finally saw the fall of innocence that was Samael Sundance. All I could do was watch as he took his mother’s book and began reading it. No. He began to study it. Memorize it. He read through the book as if it held all the answers in the world, as if it was the only thing that mattered. “Samael…” I tried to walk toward him, but he waved a hoof in front of me. “No. I’ll be fine, Mommy. I don’t need you anymore.” “But Samael, I-” “You’re there for me. So you’re there for me. I’ll always love you, Mommy. Until I die, I’ll never forget this. I’ll always love you.” “Samael, for the last time, I’m not your mom. Your mom is gone. She went away.” “She went away…” He echoed. “ I know. But you have to be her. Why else would you be following me?” “I… Samael, that’s not wh-” He turned toward me, his eyes watering once more. “You’re my Mommy. And you love me. And I love you, Rarity. I don’t know why, but I love you. I love you. I love you. I’ll love nopony else but you… Mommy. “I’m a bad pony. I’ll only cry alone. Daddy says I’m weak. And I am. I need to be tough. I don’t need my old Mommy, and I only need you. You were always my Mommy, and you always will be. Now go. Go away.” “Samael, please, I can-” “Go!” He roared. The pain and fury in his being destroyed me. All I could do was back away. I turned tail and began to leave him, as he wished. But before I left, I said, “Samael, just so you know, there was something your mother used to always say: ‘May dreams give you wings.’ Do you know the rest?” “May wings give you flight. That’s how it goes. Goodnight.” “G-goodnight, my little Songbird.” And so I left him, confused, hurt, and forever changed. I don’t know why I said the things I said, and I still had to process what had happened. The only thing I knew to do was to run. I ran as far and as fast as my hooves could carry me. I ran so fast I had no idea where I was going, so I was surprised when I found myself at the front door of Cheerilee’s house. I had nowhere else to go. It was dark. So I knocked. After a few moments, Cheerilee, dressed in a pale evening robe, opened the door. Her eyes caressed me in worry. “Goddess, Rarity, what happened? Is everything alright?” She stepped away from the door, letting me through. “Please, come in.” As I entered her house, I heard the faint music of Bill Sawins’ “In My Hair, Alright!”, a true classic of days gone by. I saw the green wallpaper and thought of how beautiful the forest can be. The soft furniture, finely decorated, reminded me of my mother and father. A glass of wine on a table helped me recollect the days where I wished I could happily drink with all the classy Canterlot locals and chat about all the nothings going on. How fabulous the past was. Cheerilee led me to a small two-pony couch, and we sat in it. “What happened to you?” I sighed. Everypony seemed to do that anymore. “It was Samael. He told me things. Horrible things…” She put a hoof over mine. “Like what?” I sighed again. And then I told her the whole story, from the moment of her leaving to now, but I left out exactly what I was doing in the forest, and my knowledge of Ella and the book. “And now I’m here,” I finished, “and I have no idea what to do. Bill Sawins was gone, replaced by Jewely Crews’ “Questions In A World Of Blue”. How fitting. Cheerilee stood up. “I’ll go get some drinks. I think we need them.” She retreated to her kitchen. Jewely’s voice soared in my mind, her “Questions” eerily similar to mine. I know I’ve been selfish. I know I’ve done questionable things. Nopony’s perfect. But am I doing the right thing? Why? Is this all my fault? Cheerilee soon came back balancing a tray of wine and glasses in her mouth. She uncorked the bottle and poured the purple liquid into the glasses, handing me one. We sipped. Why did you go? “So,” she began softly, “what should we do about all this? I mean, you’ve been watching over him. Why?” “I promised a friend I’d keep him safe.” “Ella.” “Yes.” I said. Cheerilee sipped her wine again. “You two were always close. I remember you two hanging out all the time. And now Ella’s just gone.” “And Ponyville seems none the wiser. It’s as if everyone’s just forgotten about her. And what of Samael’s old name? Everypony just accepted it? Just like that?” I looked at her. My mind was reeling. “Well,” Cheerilee began, setting her wine down, “you have to remember that this is Ponyville we’re talking about. Strange creatures come here all the time, and many ponies just up and leave, and we have to move on. Our whole town was basically founded on the premise of ‘Hey, this looks nice! Let’s live here and make business!’ and we’ve come to accept these sorts of things, even name changes. We don’t have a society like those in Saddle Arabia, governed by rules, regulations, and a system allowing for things that we’d call ‘foal abuse’. It just doesn’t happen. As long as Samael is fine and suffers no discernible injury, we can’t do anything about it. You know that. Besides, a lot of ponies have respect for Rain; he helped boost the Apple family business by giving away his secret formula for brewing gin with cider and making it work! It’s a huge hit in Appleloosa, I hear... “The point is, Rarity, I don’t think you can do anything. I certainly won’t.” She placed her hooves on my shoulders. “The best thing I think for Samael right now is that we’re there for him when he needs us. Mostly me, though, since I’m his teacher and will see him more often during the day. Besides, you said he seemed drunk. So maybe any injury was self-sustained, or this only happens when he gets drunk.” I shook her off. “But what if that wasn’t it?” I said. “What about what he said about his ‘Daddy’ being mean to him? That should be enough evidence, correct? It was probably Rain that was drunk and hurt Samael like that.” “But Rarity, you have to think like this: What if Rain doesn’t get drunk all the time? What if that was the only time it happened, or ever will happen? Maybe he just had a fit of rage and Samael happened to be there. Losing a lover is difficult to cope with, Rarity. Maybe he’s still sorting things out.” “But-” “You’re still sorting things out, aren’t you? You’re each just going about it different ways. Besides, with your logic, I’d say you’re a crazy cat-mare that makes dresses while getting drug money because the sun scares her. Or something like that.” I gaped at her in awe. “You can’t be serious, Cheerilee. Do you realize what you’re saying?” She nodded. “Yeah, I do. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Rain is being abusive. But unless it has a true detriment on Samael, I cannot intervene, and neither can you. That’s just not how it is gonna work, Rarity. I’m sorry.” That’s just how it is gonna work, Rarity. That’s all you gotta do, Rarity. Keep your distance and keep quiet, Rarity. Don’t intervene, Rarity. You can’t do a thing about it, Rarity. That’s what I had to do. So that’s what I did. I spent the night at Cheerilee’s; I didn’t want to go home. Honestly, I had no idea what to do. So I reluctantly followed Cheerilee’s suggestions. Through the years I stayed in the background, ethereal in my existence. I cared for you. On nights when I’d sneak out to see you asleep under that tree, I’d treat some of your wounds. Some nights you’d wake up in a haze; some nights, you’d be angry; some nights, you’d be sad; some nights, you’d ignore me; all nights, you loved me. Day after day, year after year, I watched you grow from the shadows, but never since that night had I truly conversed with you, not in a way you truly may remember, that is. Yes, Samael, the sad and horrible truth of all this is that you grew to love me, and, in a way, I you. Yet, even though I believe I have failed in some respects, you have surprised me in how you turned out in the end. You are a wonderful, kind pony, Samael, and I am sure you would’ve made your mother and father very proud. For that is both the greatest blessing and the greatest sin, Dear. To be so wonderful, to have not let the world see your darker side, hiding it so well; to be lovely, and yet not be loved like you should. Instead you project love to your friends, and even to me. I am sorry the circumstances of your infatuation with me are less than desired, and I pray to the Goddesses you be alright, but know this: I shall always be there for you, Samael Sundance. I always have, and always will be, your Songbird.